NOVPUBJust then, Tian Shu's expression shifted. With a swift motion, he waved his hand, and three streaks of light shot out from beneath his sleeve. With a flash of icy-blue light, three towering figures emerged from the mist behind him—each nearly three zhang tall.
The first resembled a skeletal warrior, its joints bound by dark tendrils of spiritual energy. The second was a humanoid figure with a translucent body, flickering like a phantom. The third was a towering construct, its surface inscribed with ancient runes that pulsed with a cold, blue light. Their eye sockets blazed with ghostly blue flame, and the pressure they exuded immediately distorted the surrounding space.
Liang froze.
His pupils contracted slightly.
Void Transformation Realm.
All three of them.
Puppets—at this level?!
For a long moment, Liang didn't speak. His eyes lingered on the constructs as if verifying they were real and not some illusion. The puppet path had been considered lost—declining centuries before even the Ghost Dao faded. In this era, to see even a single Nascent Soul puppet was rare. But these three... each one possessed the power of a late-stage Void Transformation cultivator.
"Impressive," Liang murmured. "These aren't ordinary constructs. You've integrated ghostly essences into their cores, haven't you?"
Tian Shu smirked, a hint of pride in his eyes. "A little trick I picked up during my studies. Ghost Refining isn't just about taming spirits; it's about understanding their nature—and integrating that into our tools."
Liang nodded slowly, his gaze still fixed on the puppets. "Few have the insight to merge the Hundred Cultivation Arts so seamlessly. You've not only walked the path of Ghost Refining but have also delved into Puppet Arts. A rare combination."
Tian Shu's face grew cold, all pretense stripped away.
"At first, I was only thinking about escaping," he said slowly, voice low and edged with killing intent. "But hearing what you just said… I know it would be the greatest mistake to leave you alive."
His eyes gleamed with ruthless clarity. "You've already figured out too much about me."
The mist around them thickened, the oppressive chill deepening—as if the air itself recoiled in fear.
"You were probably observing me for a while already," Tian Shu continued, his voice now ringing with certainty. "Your intentions can't be anything but hostile."
He raised his hand, and his next words struck like a blade.
"Kill him!"
The three puppets struck like thunder.
A fist crashed down from above, wrapped in sealing light. Chains coiled through the air like serpents, aiming to bind Liang from every angle. The third puppet's chest cannon unleashed a silent pulse—Void Essence compressed into a single point, then detonated like a collapsing star.
The mountains quaked. Mist vaporized. Even space itself trembled faintly.
But when the dust and shockwaves settled… Liang was still standing.
Not unharmed—but untouched.
His robes fluttered gently in the residual wind, unruffled by the storm of power that had tried to crush him. Around him, the void shimmered faintly—as if a translucent barrier had absorbed the entire assault.
He exhaled softly. There was no anger on his face. No panic. Only a trace of curiosity in his eyes, like a scholar observing a rare specimen.
"Well constructed," he said casually. "Smooth movement. Stable core formations. Better synchronization than I expected. You must have spent decades refining them."
His gaze flicked to the left puppet, then to the chains still slowly unraveling from the air. "The chain array… a hybrid of Yin-lock and Stasis Binding? Clever."
Tian Shu's face darkened.
"You endured that?" he growled. "That cannon strike could kill a peak Void Transformation Realm cultivator outright!"
Liang didn't answer immediately. He reached out, casually brushing aside one of the lingering energy ripples, as if swatting a fly.
Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he replied, "If I were only at the Void Transformation Realm… perhaps it would have worked."
A brief silence fell.
Tian Shu's pupils contracted.
"You—" He didn't finish.
Liang took a single step forward. The space around him instantly solidified, forcing the three puppets to reel back slightly in response.
"I merely wanted to see how far you've gone."
His eyes narrowed, gleaming like stars behind storm clouds.
"And now… I've seen enough."
The moment Liang's words fell, the world itself seemed to tilt.
Tian Shu's instincts screamed—he leapt back, forming three hand seals in rapid succession. The puppets responded instantly, shifting formation: the skeletal warrior raised a tower shield formed from fused bone plates, while the translucent phantom vanished, reappearing behind Liang with a ghost-blade drawn. The third puppet charged forward, runes on its body flaring like miniature suns.
"Engage soul-burn mode!" Tian Shu barked.
The puppets surged with unnatural power, their ghostly flames turning violet. Their auras multiplied in intensity, straining the very fabric of space around them. It was a technique of desperation—burning their soul-infused cores to release strength far beyond their limits, even at the cost of eventual collapse.
Liang's eyes shimmered with a glint of approval—and pity.
The phantom behind him struck first. Its blade, forged from cursed obsidian and soul-iron, sliced downward, aiming at the base of Liang's neck with the speed of lightning. At the same moment, the cannon puppet unleashed another blast, its runes cascading in a rotating sequence as it fired a pulse compressed to the density of a dying star.
But Liang didn't dodge.
Instead, he raised one finger.
A spiral of formation runes bloomed from the tip, rotating in layered dimensions—fifth-dimensional array casting.
The moment the ghost blade touched the edge of the spiraling runes, its momentum halted as if time itself had paused. The blade hovered mid-air, frozen.
Liang's eyes didn't leave Tian Shu.
"Ghost Refining, Puppet Arts… impressive, yes. But where is your formation sense? Where is your insight into the true laws that bind matter and soul?"
His finger flicked.
The spiral expanded—and detonated silently.
Space bent, the laws around the puppets twisted into paradox. The cannon strike dissolved mid-flight, collapsing into a pocket of nothingness. The skeletal warrior's shield shattered—not from impact, but because its structural runes had been reversed in polarity.
The phantom shrieked, its form unraveling, wailing as its soul threads snapped one by one.
Tian Shu's eyes widened with horror.
"You're… using Formation Arts in real time… without a base array?! That's not possible!"
